Can You Love Me?
by VERA VIV
Summary: Michelangelo 'Spike' Scarlatti is about to be bulldozed over by the curious, enigmatic, and downright odd Alice Dressand. It'll be a struggle as both have their own demons to face and have each others demons to face in turn. But two such awkward and yet charming people, filled with their own insecurities, find themselves asking the same question, "Can You Love Me?" T for now.


**Can You Love Me?**

**CHAPTER ONE: COFFE BAR WITH A STANGER**

**By Vera Vivian**

". . . There's nothing I wouldn't give, to have just one more chance, to look into your eyes, and see you looking back, mmhhmm . . ." The tiny figure spun around in a skipping circle as she sung under her breath, ignoring the stares and mutters from the passer byers surrounding her.

Her presence definitely stood out. She had bright red and obviously dyed hair that hung choppily around her head with some pieces only a few inches long while others reached down to her mid-back. Her long-sleeved and only somewhat conservative mint dress fluttered and caught on the wind and seemed to give her a fae -ike appearance that was only exaggerated by the obvious surge she had on her ears that brought them back into little points. Some tattoos peered through her sleeves and peeked out on her shoulders. All together she was as different as could be from the bland and ordinary pedestrians who walked alongside her.

Said young woman gave a hop skip before she abruptly paused and took a long drag on the cigarette in hand before spinning around suddenly and turning straight into a taller broad chest.

"I'm so sorry!" The man who she turned into exclaimed as he reached out and steadied her.

Her eyes were wide in surprise but she shook her head, "My fault, I turned into you." She offered easily with a slight rasp in her voice and an out of place American accent.

"No, definitely mine, I wasn't looking where I was going." The other man insisted with a boyishly charming smile as he asked, "How can I ever make it up to you?"

Her eyes flicked up to his face and down again before the small woman let a wry grin work its way onto her face, "I was on my way to get some coffee."

He grinned wider as she took him up on his offer and she was struck how easy and boy-next-door he seemed, how _normal_, as he said, "Than you must allow me to accompany you, my treat."

She sucked her bottom lip in and bit it softly as if pondering before she let out a light sigh, "I suppose . . . I can't very well say no to free coffee!" She offered brightly. "I'm Alice, Alice Dressand."

"Michelangelo Scarlatti, everyone calls me Spike though."

A confused smile worked her way onto her face as she eyed him carefully, "Forgive me, but you don't seem very Spikey."

Spike full out laughed at this, "Trust me, I used to be all about the hair."

Alice eyed his cropped haircut before shaking her head in good humor, "I'm sure."

Spike raised his hands, "Honest," He defended with a wink, "Now where is this coffee shop?"

Her eyes flicked with amusement, "Block down, Sam James', can't miss it!" She did a little hop skip in the direction of the coffee bar which caused Spike to give out a laugh and shake his head and follow her.

"You're not from around here are you?"

"My my! You are a clever one!" She exclaimed sarcastically, "What gave it away? The accent or the unique look that is fabulously my own!"

His eyes crinkled in mirth, "Definitely the accent if anything."

"Oh darn!" She snapped her fingers in mock disappointment, "And I thought I hid it so well!" She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner, "You got me! Born in the good old U.S. of A. Heartland  
baby born and raised, in the corn fields is where I spent most of my days – " She broke off at his bewildered look, "Oh come on! That was a totally awesome Fresh Prince of Bel Air reference and you know it?"

He gave her a mock concerned look and then said with a completely straight face, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

She threw up her arms and turned away from him, "Obviously I was too blinded by the dangerous temptations of free coffee to see past your disarming demeanor and see the true uncultured beast that laid underneath in wait for a chance to show itself!" A mock look of horror covered her face.

Spike's face was a hilarious cross between confused, shocked, amusement, and a seeming unsureness of whether to laugh or take offense, "Did you really just say that?"

She made a look of thinking before giving a decisive nod and stating seriously, "I did indeed." Before she reached over and patted him gently on the arm with a concerned hand, "Don't worry, spend enough time with me and I'll have you educated in no time."

He shook his head but caught sight of the place in question and held the door for her as she danced in through it in front of him, "Sam James!" She exclaimed happily as the male barista who was obviously the owner who looked up from behind the coffee bar to offer her a grin.

"Alice Dressand!" He exclaimed back, mimicking her tone to the tee, "How are you my dear?"

"Wounded, deeply and irrevocably," She put on a pout, "This _man_," She pointed dramatically at Spike, "Knocked into me and completely disrupted my train of thought in a brutish and unseemly manner –" Spike gaped at her as she continued "—But he has offered to make up for his horrendous mistake with an offering of coffee and an accompaniment of company—"

"—Accompaniment of company?" Sam asked with a raised brow.

She gasped a brought a hand to her forehead for theatrical affect, "You dare to mock me you dastardly cur!" She brought herself up in righteous indignation as she offered a sly wink to Spike and grasped his arm to her as she drew herself to his side and gave a great sniff, "You and I Sam James were never meant to be. The stars have realigned and brought new light shining into by life with abrupt entrance and great glory to accompany me on the almighty mission in the search for coffee only to be spurned by the deliverer of the sweet nectar of the gods! Oh woe! Oh the humanity!"

Spike and Sam were outright laughing at her spectacle and performance. Spike was struggling for breath and gasping for relief so hard was he laughing, "I have never met a woman like you Alice." He managed to say with a grin once he regained his breath.

She smiled brightly, "And you never will meet another."

Sam muttered, "God I hope not."

Alice sniffed daintily, "Ignore the slave behind the counter and order what you will." She said and smirked at the squawk from said barista behind the counter.

Spike finally glanced at the hand printed menu that hung neatly in chalk above and eyed it speculatively. It was rather simple with four main categories with five options below each; Coffee, Old School, New School, and Tea. It was simple and yet he had no real idea of what to order, "You pick for me Alice."

The woman in question began to bounce up and down on her feet and clasped her hands in excitement, "You've never been here before?" He shook his head, "How could you never – !? Never mind! You have to order a Siphon! You haven't lived till you've tried it!"

He blinked, "I'll take your word for it." He nodded to the barista, Sam, "Siphon and whatever my lady wishes as well."

Sam's eyes twinkled but he asked Alice, "Your usual Alice?"

She nodded and was still vibrating with excitement, "You have to watch him make it! He's a genius! A guru of coffee!"

Spike shook his head which he seemed to find himself doing a lot in Alice's company but obediently watched the barista move with a practiced grace behind the counter and found himself fascinated in the actions that the man seemed to have to an art form. He watched as the man poured the coffee mixture into an odd two chamber glass contraption that seemed to force the mixture to bubble almost instantly and stirred the mixture with a practiced hand for a couple of seconds before he simply let it be and kept an eye on it as he moved away to prepare Alice's order, checking on it periodically. After a wait he moved to have the upper chamber that contained the mixture drain with a simple grace into the lower glass sphere. Eventually he removed the drained coffee and poured it easily into a glass mug and saucer set. He took a spoon and made a few deft movements in the ceramic set with it before he set both down on the counter in front of them.

"Try some while its hot but then let it cool down and drink it again," Sam instructed Spike as he pushed the clear mug in Spike's direction, "The flavor changes."

Spike eyed the steaming coffee but thanked the man as he paid him and took the time to leave a small tip in the jar that sat on the counter. He noticed that Alice's mug had a heart design the talented barista had managed to draw in the foam at the surface of the drink, "They both look incredible."

"Let me know how they taste and I'll truly feel the compliment but thanks." Sam offered.

Spike grabbed his after Alice took hers and followed her to the stools that were spaced out in front of the counter that faced the window to the street outside and once they had sat down did he take a drink.

When they finally sat he took a slow careful sip of the fresh cup of coffee and nearly hummed in appreciation. It was perfect for a cop like him, smooth, light, not to strong, but not too weak either. It was definitely the flavorful taste of coffee but in a light version that seemed to rejuvenate him rather than kick him into the land of the living like his normal morning brew. Definitely not a morning coffee but interesting never the less.

"Very good! Never had it before and must say I am impressed! Still think I'll keep my morning espresso but a good afternoon coffee for sure." He offered the barista behind the counter who gave a wide grin to him and a nod of thanks but turned to assist some customers who had just entered the store. "What did you get?" He asked Alice with a somewhat cheeky smirk.

She giggled but replied, "Macchiato."

Spike groaned as an image of Italy, a café, macchiato, and his cousins popped into his mind and quickly said less she be put off by his reaction, "Now that's a caffè that reminds me of home." He said purposefully stressing his Italian pronunciation of coffee.

"You're Italian?" She asked with a light in her eyes.

"What gave it away?" He teased, "The accent or stunning Italian bod you see beside you."

Alice burst into a happy gale of open laughter and Spike found himself enjoying the sound of her laughter more and more by the minute.

"Okay, okay, I deserved that." She offered once she had gained control of herself, "I visited Italy once. I've always wanted to go back."

"Really?" Spike asked with a raised brow of interest, "When?"

"The summer after I graduated high school. I wanted to go so badly but, well, I had to pay for it myself, so instead of saving for college, or a car, or any of those unnecessary things," She said with a wave of her hand, "I paid three hundred and fifty dollars a month for nine months straight in order to go on a ten day trip with my Latin class. Well, with eight other Latin scholars, Magister, and another chaperone." She sighed wistfully and Spike could tell that if just for a moment she was caught up in happy memories.

"I assumed you liked it?" He asked with a crinkling of his eyes at her instant and loud response.

"Liked it!?" She burst out as if to demand what sort of question that was, "I LOVED it! The art! The people! The history! Magister! My friends! David." The last one was sort of a longing sigh.

"Should I be jealous of an Italian man already in your heart?" He asked facetiously with a hint of flirting and a dash of true jealousy that he tried to squash away the moment he felt it. For God's sake, he had only just met the young woman.

Her nose crinkled adorably and she shook her head and spoke with a slight self-depreciating tone mixed with humor, "I was so silly. David was English, accent and all, had lived in Italy for fourteen years, and was over thirty years my senior." She shook her head at his inquiring look, "Oh nothing like that!" She exclaimed, "We just talked a lot, the entire ten days, he was kind, listened to what I said, teased me about my Harry Potter obsession, I probably reminded him of his daughter more than anything. We exchanged a couple of e-mails when I returned to the States but one time he simply never replied." She set her head on her hand and tilted her head as she eyed him in a curious fashion, "I haven't thought of David in years. But he was one of those people that just impacted you. I felt as if I had known him for years. I'm afraid I attach rather easily."

In an instant Spike's mind had switched to his SRU profiler's mind as he listened to Alice remember. "That's not necessarily a bad thing." He offered with a hopefully understanding smile as he met her eyes and withheld the urge to reach across and grasp her palm in comfort.

She blinked and shook her head, "I'm being silly. Talking about stupid teenage crushes to someone who barely knows me."

Spike thought back on all the times him or one of the team talked with subjects about things of incredibly personal natures before he spoke slowly, "Sometimes, sometimes it's easier to talk with a perfect stranger about these things where you both don't have the baggage of previous relationships.

In this Spike thought he saw her first true smile. It was open, with a crinkling of her eyes and a spark of something behind her pale green lamps, with no teasing or mirth, just open, pure happiness. Spike realized this girl had million different smiles but if he could ever see this one again he would be trapped for sure. Spike, after all, attached too easily as well.

Alice gently reached across and grasped one of his hands easily in hers and Spike inwardly marveled at how easily her much smaller and delicate hand fit in his, "Thank you, Michelangelo Scarlatti."

He shook his head to clear the clouds that filled it and in return gently squeezed her hand, "Your welcome, Alice Dressand."

A slight blush graced the cheek of the enigmatic woman and she gently disentangled their grasp to take a sip of her coffee with both hands clasping the cup. Spike recognizes the gesture for what it was, to take control back to herself, but had no problem allowing it of her but at the same time he desperately missed the warmth of her hand within his.

"So, Michel, what do you do?" She asked in a chipper and interested tone. **(Imagine the Italian pronunciation of Michelangelo (Mee *kel *ang *eh * low) but instead it's just Michel (Mee * kel)**

"Michel?" He questioned with a disbelieving raised brow, if someone even bothered to shorten his first name and use it, it was normally Mike or in his mother's occasional case, Mikey.

A teasing smirk worked its way onto her face and she said, "It's just, you don't seem very Spikey to me. Maybe you were once, but not now." An out-of-place seriousness crossed her face slightly as she said slightly unsure of herself, "If you don't like it I could stop."

Spike instantly decided that he didn't like that unsurity in the unusually and normally confident and outgoing woman sitting beside him, "No, it's fine. I really don't mind." _With you_. Was inwardly tagged onto the end but he quickly continued to answer her question, "Well, I'm a police officer with the SRU." He quickly recognized her curious but questioning look as explained, "It's Toronto's Strategic Response Unit. Think of it like SWAT but with more psychology and focus on negotiations."

"That's fantastic Michel!" Alice exclaimed in genuine enthusiasm, "I totally used to want to be a cop, got a Master in Criminal Justice and everything."

"You did?" He asked genuinely surprised if based on her appearance than nothing else.

"Yeah, thing's changed, but that's still totally awesome! What do you do for the SRU?" She asked, brushing past the focus on her own background.

"I'm our technical expert and bomb specialist." Spike offered with a grin that had worked his way onto his face at her enthusiasm. He chose to ignore for the moment how she brushed past her own history and put the focus on him.

"That's so cool!" He laughed at how much of a kid she sounded like, "No, really!" She defended, "It is! Do you love your job?" She demanded with a raised brow as she crossed her arms in front of her.

Spike had to force down the laugh that threatened at seeing the woman who actually seemed to be shorter than Jules attempting to act intimidating. She only achieved her goal slightly as her intimidation was like that of a puppy's, cute and small and defensive with the main fear being a tiny pair of teeth biting down hard on your hand, the worst that could happen would be broken skin and nothing major. But at the moment Spike didn't want to particularly test her puppy like temperament and decided to just give her his honest answer, "I do, it's definitely hard at times, but I love my job and I love my team."

She seemed to feel his honesty as she settled back easily and relaxed her 'intimidating' posture.

"What about you?" Spike asked, "What do you do?"

Her body language closed off slightly as his question but as if she recognized she was doing it she opened herself up almost immediately and fell into an easy answer, "I dabble."

At his disbelieving look she gave a small laugh but continued.

"No really! I do! I don't have just one job. I'm currently an on-call surgeon for Mount Sinai and North York with my main specialty being Neurology and my second being Cardiology. I'm a guest lecturer occasionally in Criminal Psychology. Umm, I teach some ballet at a local kids' dance studio. What else, I'm a consultant for the U.S. Department of Defense and they have me on-call, as well as some consulting work I do for the Canadian military and, well, those who request me who I like. Oh! And I also consult for various Medical Examiners and am on-call for some local M.E.'s Offices."

Spike gaped and stared at her almost blankly.

She waved her hand in front of his face, "I didn't break you, did I?"

He grabbed her hand and felt the familiar comfort of her heat within his grasp but demanded, "Explain."

She sighed in a put-out manner, "Okay, okay, see, I was kind of a genius and hold a number of degrees, most focused on medical, criminal, and psychological. I earned a bit of a repertoire in my work in the military as well as before that with my appearance on the civilian circuit as a 'wonder doctor' or some such other silly title. I'm kind of on a sabbatical now and have since ended my time with the military and have no one singular occupation."

"That's, that's amazing Alice!" Spike exclaimed.

She offered him a small with only slight bitterness smile but acknowledged it, "It is. I did some work overseas with the Canadian Joint Task Force and that has landed me a place and home here in Canada, and well, Toronto to be more accurate."

"How many degrees do you have if you don't mind me asking?" Spike asked.

"I don't mind, you'd probably be able to just wiz up your answers via your tech skills even if I didn't."

"I wouldn't –!" Spike immediately protested.

She gave him a 'look' and he caved.

"Okay, I probably would, but I wouldn't mean anything bad by it!" He added defiantly which caused a smile to cross her face.

"I know you wouldn't, you just wouldn't be able to help yourself. I wouldn't blame you for it, but to save you the time I'll just tell you myself. I actually hid my intelligence, believe it or not, until I graduated high school. I graduated with everyone else my age with no particular honors but by that time I had already achieved two BA's on the side. I flew through all of college at a much accelerated rate. I attained several scholarships and had no need to work thus I the classes I took pretty much filled up all of my week days from the moment I was up till the night classes ended. I have Ph. D.s in Neurology and Cardiology, Psychology, and Anthropology. I am a certified Physician, Surgeon, Psychologist, Medical Examiner, and Anthropologist. I have Masters Degrees in Criminal Justice and Philosophy and a BA in Political Science. I served a three year stint with U.S. Special Forces. That ended about a year and a half ago and I decided I needed a change from Washington about a month back and it took about two months but I got myself relocated to here in Toronto with the help of some old acquaintances who owed me a favor or two and here I am." She gestured to herself sitting on the stool.

"How old are you?" Spike asked blown away by the extraordinary woman who sat beside him.

A teasing touched her tongue as she asked, "Michel, are you asking me my age?" She laughed his sputtering and allowed it for a bit before she took pity on him and said, "It's okay, I know what you meant. Hopefully." He groaned at the sly wink she gave him. " I was graduated high school at seventeen, spent eight years earning my degrees, entered the military and did that for three years, and now I've been floating about for a year and a half now so that makes me twenty nine, thirty this year."

"You are incredible." He stated slowly trying to press his honesty into the statement and he held up his hand to prevent her protest, "For God's sake, Alice, accept the compliment for what it is."

"I've always had trouble accepting compliments." Was her quick and quirky reply but he could see the spark again in her eyes as she met his and floundered for how to truly respond. But the thanks in her eyes was enough.

"Who would have thought you would bump into my life, Michel Scarlatti?" She asked with a teasing but somehow serious lilt to her words.

"You've forced yourself into mine Alice Dressand." Spike said with a seriousness he rarely possessed outside of the focused pressure of his job.

She smiled and gestured to his now cool, even cold, Siphon coffee that sat innocently and barely drunk on the table before him, "You need to try it now." She insisted scooting the cup closer to him.

He paused but lifted it to his lips and was shocked by the cool and different, but not bad, taste that flooded his taste buds from the first sip. "It's fruity." He commented, honestly surprised, "Almost like . . .?" He took another tasting sip and swirled it in his mouth, trying to distinguish the particular flavor that now pervaded his drink.

"Blueberries!?" She exclaimed with dancing eyes.

His eyes widened in recognition and he threw back his head and laughed at the oddness but rightness of the entire situation, "Exactly like blueberries!" He replied laughing still.

Her laughter mixed with his and she carefully leaned her head against his shoulder and there was just something comfortable and right about the movement. They may have just met each other but it felt as if they had known each other for far longer than that.

**So, I'm American but I fell in love with the Flashpoint series. This is using a character from a different story of mine that's not posted on Fanfiction yet. Alice Dressand is a character of my own creation and one that I connect with very much, she's pretty much a fictional representation of me how I would want to be with a bit more trauma in her past than me but what can I say, my brain comes up with crazy scenarios and stories that I can't just leave alone.**

**Song at the beginning was Hurt by Christina Aguilera which is a song I obsess over! **

**I discovered Sam James Coffee Bar because I was looking for a unique coffee bar in Toronto and SJ's pretty much leapt up off of Google at me. My imagination of the barista Sam James in no way represents the real Sam James because I have never met him. BUT if I'm ever in Toronto it is a place that I definitely want to visit! I put a lot of research into SJ's Coffee Bar for this chapter and hope you enjoy.**

**This will be Spike/OC with the OC obviously being Alice Dressand. Please stick with my story. It's kind of become one of my babies. Let me know any thoughts! Thank you wonderful readers of Fanfiction!**


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